


Far End Of The Night

by junkster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Forests, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way home from a two-day patrol, Leon takes night watch duties, watching over Gwaine and Percival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far End Of The Night

The owls were in fine voice that night, their eerie, feather-soft calls carrying down from the trees for miles around. Aside from them and the crackle of the small campfire, the woods were still and silent in the darkness.

Sat with his back against a grand, smooth beech tree, long legs stretched out before him, Leon listened to that night time song. Such a delicate way to defend territory, he thought.

Gwaine’s head lay heavily on his right thigh, his breaths slow and even and warm through Leon’s breeches as he slept peacefully. He was curled on his side, his knees tucked up towards his chest, his hands resting in the space between, his scarlet cloak covering him against the chill. Leon absently curled long, dark strands of hair around one of his fingers, letting them unravel and brush cool and soft against his skin before twining them around again.

“No nightmares tonight,” a voice remarked softly in his left ear.

“No,” he agreed, glancing down at Gwaine’s worry-free face. “Not tonight.”

Silence fell again, broken only by the snuffle of something small and sedate in the leaves nearby. A hedeghog or rat, most likely, going about its nocturnal business.

Raising his arm, Leon slipped his hand into the one that rested on his other thigh, curling his fingers and watching their fellows fold over, holding him tightly.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he murmured, turning to get a blurry look at the head resting on his shoulder. “We have a long ride back to Camelot tomorrow.”

“I’m enjoying the peace,” Percival reasoned, his voice low and lazy.

“You could enjoy it if you were asleep, too.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Leon swept his thumb slowly across the back of Percival’s hand, bone and sinew and strength holding his own so gently. So many times the two of them had shared night watch, whether under orders or simply because one of them was injured, or couldn’t sleep, or both. In a strange way, even when the others lay around them in sleep, it was one of the few times they felt privacy on their side.

He turned his head and laid his cheek against Percival’s temple for a moment, listening to him breathe and concentrating on his warm and solid presence, pressed up against his side, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

“Maybe you would dream about Gwaine and me,” he suggested quietly.

Percival countered, a smile in his words: “Why dream when I have you right here?”

Leon tapped the tips of his fingers against Percival’s knuckles and smiled as well, watching as Gwaine’s eyelids fluttered in deep sleep. He wondered how they must look to the owls, the three of them, bathed in fire light and flickering in shadow, pressed together close and tight. He felt Percival’s grip on his hand ease slightly, tiredness catching up on him.

“Go to sleep, my friend,” he said, his voice soft and low and warm.

Percival exhaled a silent sigh before growling a quiet sound of grudging acquiescence in his throat.

“Wake me for my turn,” he mumbled against Leon’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Leon soothed, smiling as he felt Percival relax piece by piece.

An easy lie.


End file.
